


Favorite Lieutenant

by BalefireFlatlands



Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Bloodplay, Bodily Fluids, M/M, Vomit, everything is gross, probably dub-con but since it's Stank who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Stank Gum has failed, and Scrotus will not tolerate that.





	Favorite Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt from Tumblr.

Someone had blown up the Jaw. The fiercely defended tunnel through the Wasteland, and a symbol of Scrotus’ might and power. Word was that Jeet had found himself a prisoner from the Bullet Farm and that was going to have to be dealt with, make an example of both Jeet and that prisoner. But for now Scrotus needed to speak with his Lieutenants. Make them very aware that he did not tolerate any defeat, especially one as enormous as this.

Two of them were already dead, one flayed alive and the other literally ripped apart and both now impaled on pikes outside of Gastown as a reminder to his legion. He’d punished them publicly in the stadium, even dragged the Outcrier and his pet junkie away from his precious race planning to herald the torture. People needed to be reminded that Scrotus was in charge, and his will was law.

Scrotus couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it, but he would have preferred to not have to punish them. It was an insult to him that he even had to dirty his hands like that. But he wasn’t finished yet. Oh no. Now it was Stank Gum’s turn.

Undeniably his favorite, his bitch, and he was paying him the small respect of punishing him in private. The Jaw wasn’t even his territory to patrol, but when one of them failed, they all failed. Stank wasn’t any sort of strategist, he was just a guy even more twisted that Scrotus himself, so sadistic and cruel that just his presence was enough to keep the ranks in line. The only reason Scrotus tolerated any sort of failure from him, and the one thing keeping him from killing him outright like the others, was that Stank basically hung off his dick. Took anything he dished out and begged for more. Scrotus expected nothing less, but it was still a boost to his massive ego.

He would have been content to let it go with an ass beating, but Stank was also stupid, had picked a fight with the Outcrier and listening to the two of them yelling at each other, even if it was only for a minute before they both shut up in his presence, had tested his patience. At least the Outcrier respected him, or more likely just wanted to stay alive and in a position of power, same difference, Stank seemed to think his closeness to the Master of this part of the Wasteland granted him special privileges, and that just wouldn’t do.

Scrotus had dragged Stank away with one hand clenched around his throat, heading deep into the bowels of the refinery to his private section of the factory. Several rooms that no one was allowed to enter, his sanctuary. And more importantly, a place where no one would come investigating any screaming they heard.

With barely a flick of his massive arm he threw Stank into the metal wall, then stormed over and ground the heel of his boot into the man’s jaw, not stopping until he started to hear the crunching of bones. Stank actually giggled when he was let up, springing up to his feet in an instant and eagerly looking for more. It was always a struggle to punish someone who loved pain, but Scrotus was never one to back down from a challenge.

Grabbing for that throat again he picked Stank up to eye-level, letting him dangle a few feet off the ground and pulling that rancid skin mask off his face. “That’s better. Let me see my work.” Stank’s face was an absolute mess, welts and scars and bruising, Scrotus had carved into his face so deeply there were areas that muscle and bone were actually exposed. He ran a meaty thumb along a deep ridge in Stank’s skull where he’d hit him with an axe once, probably should have killed him then, but here they were. And Stank was letting himself hang limp, didn’t even have his hands around Scrotus’ wrist to hold himself up, grinning his black grin. He’d had some teeth when he became a lieutenant, didn’t anymore. Scrotus had knocked them out. His gigantic cock hadn’t fit in the man’s mouth with those teeth so they had to go. Either that or he could have ripped his jaw off, but then he wouldn’t be able to screech orders at his War Boys. In Scrotus’ empire War was first, pleasure second.

Seeing those missing teeth reminded him of why he’d knocked them out in the first place, and that seemed as good a place to start as any. He tossed Stank onto a table, pinning him on his back and pushing his head upside down off the side. Without giving him a moment to recover he was unbuttoning his pants, pulling his monster dick out of his pants and hitting Stank in the face with it. The man snickered and squirmed, obediently opening his mouth to take it.

And Scrotus gave it to him. All of it. In one swift motion he shoved his dick all the way down his throat, choking him immediately. Hot bile burned against his cock as Stank vomited, but he didn’t move, waiting to see if Stank would actually choke to death and die. Squirming and coughing around Scrotus’ dick he drooled stomach acid all down his fucked up face, but he didn’t try to pull away or bite. Not that he had enough teeth left for that to matter, but if Scrotus felt those gums closing around him he’d kill him in an instant. Leaving his cock right where it was he rubbed at Stank’s throat, stroking himself through his Lieutenant’s skin.

Continuing to spasm and vomit Stank finally reached his hands up, but not to push Scrotus away. With cupped hands he scooped up some of the vomit that was streaming over his face, bringing it up and rubbing it across his chest. He giggled through his choking fit, shuddering as the stomach acid bit into that brand across his body. He was masochistically perverted even for Scrotus’ legion.

Deciding he didn’t actually want the guy to die on his dick he pulled back, then rammed in again, fucking his face hard. Stank started to convulse, probably not a conscious reaction but his body struggling for air and to get rid of the giant intrusion in his throat. Scrotus didn’t care, kept right on pistoning into him until he came. Practically right into Stank’s stomach, but that made him vomit even harder and Scrotus pulled back so he could retch over the side of the table.

“You’re wasting it.” Scrotus yanked him off the table, burying his face in the puddle of cum and stomach acid on the metal floor like he was a disobedient dog. It took a second for Stank to get his limbs back under control and get himself up on all fours, but it was a second too long and Scrotus kicked him in the side. Hard. Stank got the message and scrambled to his hands and knees, obediently lapping up the mess he’d made, swallowing bile back down to where it came from.

Scrotus walked away, left him to it, knowing that the man wouldn’t stop until he’d licked it all up, the son of the Immortan expected absolute obedience and he always got it. He perused his wall of toys, wondering what he should do to his favored warrior. Whipping? No, he enjoyed that too much. Could cut up his face some more, but that was starting to get old. Maybe he should improvise. There was some rusty barbed wire that he was using to hang things off of, but it would serve. Pulling it off the wall he returned to Stank, forcibly ripping his pants off, tearing his shoes off his feet without untying them and possibly breaking some toes in the process.

There was finally some sounds of pain amongst those giggles that Stank was making and when Scrotus set him back down he nearly fell. That was a start. He kicked his feet apart, making him stand spread eagle so he could get to work with that barbed wire. He wrapped it around his waist, then his thighs, making a harness around his groin. Pausing with the wire in his hand he debated wrapping it around Stank’s dick too. But twisted as he was, and sadistic as he enjoyed being, he didn’t want to take the chance he might accidentally castrate him. Not that he gave a fuck about Stank’s dick, but the man used it to rape and terrify his small army of War Boys and he needed that to keep his leadership. In the end Scrotus wrapped the end of the wire up around Stank’s chest pushing it into his skin to keep it in place.

He firmly tugged him back to the table with his makeshift harness, streaks of blood already cascading down his legs from the tears in the sensitive skin of his thighs. Grabbing the back of his head Scrotus forced him down onto the table, smirking as Stank finally screamed, the barbed wire embedding itself deep into his skin. More screams were coming as Scrotus rammed him without any lube or preparation. His dick was thick, long, tearing into his ass and most likely jostling around his other internal organs. Blood began to pour, from his ass, from the harness, from bleeding internally.

But Scrotus didn’t stop. If he died, he died. He could get another Lieutenant, Stank needed to learn his place. And that place was being Scrotus’ bitch yes, but also being a war leader. Maybe one day the man would impress him somehow and Scrotus would fuck him in a way that didn’t incapacitate him for a week afterwards. But that day was definitely not today. Stank kept on screaming, fingers tightening around the edges of the table as he was quite literally ripped in half but Scrotus didn’t let up. Not til he got what he wanted. And then he was filling Stank’s ass with his seed, keeping his dick embedded in his ass so it didn’t all leak out immediately.

When he finally pulled out, with a gush of semen and blood and various other bodily fluids, he dragged the still wheezing and screaming Stank to the ground again. Didn’t say anything though, Stank knew what to do. He was almost crying with pain, but he rolled into his side, struggling with his tongue to slurp all that up too. Nothing was wasted.

Scrotus was half tempted to just throw him out of the room with the barbed wire harness still attached, but Stank was obedient enough to earn a little bit of reprieve. And the man was far to weak to be able to take it off himself, so Scrotus’ in his benevolence, unwound the barbed wire from him, giving him a harsh look up and down, reminding him that he was nothing. Meat to serve him. Battle fodder to die for him.

And then he tossed him out, throwing his pants onto the crumpled pile of Stank that was outside his door. Slamming it behind him and not giving another thought to his lieutenant for the rest of the night.

Stank however, would be thinking about Scrotus for a good long while, struggling into his pants he gingerly made his way back to the Big Chief, blood splattered all over him and dripping a trail behind him. Some Gastowner made the mistake of looking at him too long and Stank started giggling, none of his face hidden behind the mask he wore normally, making his grin even more horrifying.

He pulled a knife out of his pocket and leapt on them, giggling manically as he replaced the skin mask that was still in Scrotus’ room. Stank was in agony, but to him it was a form of euphoria, and Scrotus had just rewarded him for all his hard work. He was still the favorite. Still Scrotus’ number one. There were screams all around him, and more blood, this time not his own.

With a crazed laugh he started cutting. This was a good day. Things were certainly going well for Stank Gum.


End file.
